His Most Difficult Case
by BryannaB709
Summary: This can be read as a sequel to "When I Was Your Man" or a stand-alone story. Either way, it makes sense. Anyway, Sherlock (with the unwanted help of John and Anderson and his club) is trying to win back to love of his beloved pathlogist. (I suck at summaries.)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ Sorry I left you guys hanging! Thanks to Tinkbrown (my mom, btw), I have decided to publish the continuation of my previous story, _When I Was Your Man_. You don't neccessary have to read the first story to understand this one, they can be considered as stand-alone stories, but I like it better like this.

 _Summary:_ Sherlock faces the biggest case of his entire career; trying to win back the love of his pathologist.

 _Disclaimer:_ I do not own _Sherlock_. There, I said it! *sob*

 **His Most Difficult Case**

John walked into 221B, greeted Mrs. Hudson, then walked up the stairs into his shared flat.

He opened the door to the living room, and found that Sherlock had shut all of the lights off and was lying in the center of the floor, staring at the ceiling.

John sighed, and switched on the living room light.

Sherlock let out a strange squawk, then dove underneath the table on which his laptop was sitting.

John set down his groceries, and said, "What is it now?"

Sherlock hissed from underneath the table, "Turn the lights back off."

John rolled his eyes, then said, "Sherlock, what's going on?"

There was a groan from underneath the table, then Sherlock said, "I have a new case."

John smiled, because when his flat-mate had a case, there would be no bullet holes in the wall for Mrs. Hudson to worry about. He asked in all curiousity, "And what is it?"

There was a long pause, then Sherlock said almost inaudibly, "I've got to get Molly back."

John nodded, now he understood why this particular 'case' was bothering Sherlock so much.

Sherlock's voice cut through John's thoughts, saying, "Now turn the light back off."

* * *

Lestraude was signing some paperwork when John burst into his office.

He looked up from his desk, and said, "What is it?"

John looked around frantically, then said, "It's Sherlock. He won't eat, he barely sleeps for all I know, he won't even move from the same spot on the carpet, even for the bathroom!" He threw his hands up in the air, and said, "I know he's... _odd_ to say the least, but I've never seen him like this!"

Donovan walked into the office, and said, "Are you sure he's not out killing someone right now?"

Lestraude turned to her, and said in an exasperated voice, "Not now, Donovan. Just... not now."

John waited until Donovan walked out of the office before he said, "You've known him longer than I have; what is going on?"

Lestraude set down his pen, and said, "I don't know. What's bothering him so much?"

John thought a bit for the right words, then said, "He's got a new case."

Lestraude sat up in his large chair, and said, "Well, shouldn't this be helping things?"

John bit his lower lip, and said, "Not this case... He's trying to get Molly back."

Upon these words, Anderson stuck his head through the door, and said, "He's what?!"

Lestraude looked irritatedly at Anderson, and said, "How many of you are listening out there?"

Anderson shifted his feet, and said, "Just a few guys from the Empty Hearse, a few from Ferenzics, and maybe a few from ME..."

Lestraude held his forehead in his palm, and said, "John, as much as I hate to say it..." He took a deep breath, then said, "I think Anderson can help you more in that field than I can."

Anderson let out a loud squeal, then gathered himself. A few seconds later, however, he said very quickly, "You could say that, well, now that Sherlock isn't dead anymore, well, the Empty Hearse has been converted into a completely Sherlolly supporting fangroup."

John frowned, and said, "First of all; Sherlolly?"

Anderson said offhandedly, "Oh, we had to find a ship-name between Sherlock and Molly, so we all agreed on Sherlolly."

John sighed, then said, "And second of all; how long has your fangroup been stalking my partner?"

Anderson held back a small smile, and said, "We only have an employee at St. Bart's. And, John, you should probably know that a woman called Mrs. Hudson is one of our best spies. She says she gets so good information because... she's your housekeeper? Is that correct?"

John threw his head back, and said, "Mrs. Hudson? Mrs. Hudson? Really?"

Anderson smiled, and said, "Well, if you want Sherlock back, there's only one thing you can do; you need our help to get them together."

John thought this over for a minute or two, then said, "Fine."

Lestraude piped up from behind John, "Hey, can you two kindly get out of my office? I have work to do."

* * *

John was sitting in the back of a cab next to Anderson, thoroughly annoyed. Anderson had said that before he helped John help Sherlock, John had to meet the members of what was formerly the Empty Hearse.

So now, they were riding in a cab towards what John susposed was the middle of nowhere.

The cab stopped in front of a large, almost abandoned looking building, and John glared at Anderson. He said, "How long is this going to take?"

Anderson just opened his door, and climbed out. John sighed, and tipped the cabby, then climbed out.

He followed Anderson up the stairs leading to the front door to the building, and paused as Anderson knocked a strange rhythm into the door.

John heard a voice from behind the door whisper, "It's Anderson!" then a large combination a locks, chains, and bolts were taken off of the door.

John gave Anderson a quizzical look, and Anderson just said, "That was Patrick. He owns the place."

John shook his head, and followed Anderson into the now opened door.

A large mess of people greeted Anderson at the door, and just stared awkwardly at John.

Anderson just smiled, and began to point out the individual people; he pointed to a blonde woman crouched in the corner nursing a carton of yogurt, and said, "That's Terry."

He pointed to a large man wearing a bloody apron and brandishing a butcher's knife. John jumped, but Anderson just laughed, saying, "No, no, that's Patrick, he owns the butcher's shop downstairs. He lets us have the meetins up here."

He pointed to a man wearing heavily-tattered flannel and missing many teeth, and said, "That's Tatters." Tatters automatically latched onto John's hand, and shook it up and down with great violence, saying, "It's such a pleasure ta meet ya, James!" John just forced a smile, and said, "Pleasure."

Anderson pointed to a large woman wearing all black and sporting blaring red hair, and said, "That's Marie. Don't... make eye contact." In response, Marie barked, "'O's the shrimp?" John backed away instantly, and held his hands in front of his face.

Anderson just chuckled, and pointed to an extremely thin man with huge chunky glasses and a terrible overbite, and said, "That's Darwin. Do not mention nuclear physics whatever you do."

He pointed to a man and a woman that appeared to be sitting in the same seat, and said, "That's Norman and Tabatha. I don't think I've seen them apart in my entire life, and I was their next-door neighbor for fifteen years."

He pointed to a little girl clinging onto Tatters's pant leg, and said, "That's No-Name. She just started showing up to meetings, I think she's mute; anyway, she doesn't say anything, she mainly just freaks us out."

He pointed to a woman wearing full Slytherin robes, and said, "That's Darla, she's the employee at St. Bart's we told you about." Darla just muttered something like, "Muggles." then moved to the back of the group.

Anderson pointed to a short mousy woman near the back, and said, "That's Mandy, she's our secretary."

He pointed finally to the last person in the group, "And here's the one person here that really needs no introduction to you, John, here, Mrs. Hudson, come to the front."

John smiled at Mrs. Hudson, and said, "So, you're a part of this too? Shame on you." Mrs. Hudson just laughed, and hugged him around the neck, saying, "So, John, are you a member too?"

John shook his head, and said to Anderson, "There. I've met everyone, can we leave now?" Anderson just clucked his tongue, and said, "No, it would be very rude for you not to last out an entire meeting."

John groaned, and sat down in one of the many chairs in the crowded room. Terry automatically crawled out of her corner to John's chair, and said, "Hi. You look nice."

John moved his chair away from her, and said, "Thanks. You know, it's very rude to stare."

Terry just flicked him a card with her number on it, gave him a quick wink, then crawled back into her corner.

Anderson clapped his hands, and said, "Okay, everyone, as you know, we have a very special guest with us tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, meet John Watson, Sherlock Holmes own partner!"

Only Tatters and Terry provided scattered applause, the rest of the club just stared rudely. Marie squinted at him, and said, "Are Sherlock and Molly involved?"

John thought for a second, then said, "Well, they are both very fond of each other, but Molly is too shy to say anything, and Sherlock is too stuck up, so..."

Darla glared a him, and said, "What are you here, anyway?" John started to speak, but he stopped himself, and said, "Yes, Anderson, why am I here?"

Anderson clapped his hands, and bit his bottom lip, and John could tell that something he didn't know was coming up.

Anderson said, "Okay, John, I can't help you alone. I need my team." For 'team' he gestured to the people behind him.

Terry giggled.

John groaned.

* * *

Molly walked into St. Bart's that morning, and was automatically confronted by Darla.

Molly smiled her sweet smile, then said, "Oh, hi Darla!"

Darla just stared suspiciously at her.

Molly just shrugged, and continued walking into the morgue.

She walked into the locker room, and opened her locker. She placed her purse inside, then peeled off her coat. She was in the process of pulling on her labcoat when Darla walked into the locker room.

Molly gave her a quizzical look, and said, "Darla, you work at the receptionist's desk. You don't need anything from the locker room."

Darla rolled her eyes, and said, "I just need you to answer a few questions."

Molly shrugged, and said, "Alright. What do you need to know?"

Darla advanced quite quickly on poor Molly, and said very fast, "How much do you know about Sherlock?"

Molly stuttered, "W-well he seemed to like this... heh heh, _woman_ called Irene Adler. She was pretty, pretty smart, but not smart enough for him. He out-smarted her, because he's so intelligent, and intuitive, and COMPLETELY OUT OF MY LEAGUE."

She caught herself near the end of her answer, but Darla pressed on. "What more do you know about this Irene Adler? Why did Sherlock like her so much?"

Molly thought about this for a second, then said, "Well, she was a bad girl. He couldn't read her immediately. He told me once, that he enjoyed someone with layers, someone that he couldn't just read their entire profile with one glance. But what he doesn't know is that I have layers, he doesn't know everything about me, but he doesn't look closely enough, for once."

She started to cry a little bit at the end of this answer, and the harshness in Darla's eyes faded as she said in a softer tone, "Go on."

Molly said through her abundant tears, "I have l-lots of things that he doesn't know about m-me, but h-he doesn't c-care, because I'm not pretty enough, I d-don't attract all of his attention, so he doesn't care to l-look a little c-closer. I could be interesting, I'm j-just not pretty. I'm n-not Irene Adler, so I'll n-never be good enough."

She collapsed in tears against her open locker door, while Darla tried to calm her down.

After about a minute, Molly wiped the tears from her cheeks, and said, "I think I'm good now."

Darla gave her a small genuine smile, and said, "Well, you were right, I'm not susposed to be in here."

Molly nodded, and closed her locker.

* * *

 _A/N:_ Sorry, this one is going to have to be at least two parts. Sorry guys! :(((((((


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_ Hello, people. Yeah, I guess I kinda left you hangin' there. This is the second, and (hopefully) final part.

 _Disclaimer:_ I don't own _Sherlock_.

 **Part Two**

John sat in the police station, having a coffee with Anderson.

He couldn't really stand staying at 221B, because Sherlock had grown even more frustrated with his 'case', and had also found the pistol.

Needless to say, life at 221B had now grown dangerous.

John's phone beeped, and he groaned, and answered it.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that the contact read _Sherlock Holmes_ , but when he opened the message, it only read " _Out of milk Pick some up_ ".

John sighed, and replied, "OK".

He put away his phone, and started to read his newspaper.

Anderson's phone let out a loud blast of his screamo-music ringtone, and he quickly fished it out of his pocket, and answered the call.

"Hello?" he said.

The voice on the other side said something, then Anderson cupped his hand over the reciever, and mouthed to John, _"It's Darla."_

He turned back to his phone, and said, "Oh! Really?"

Darla said something, and Anderson smiled. He said, "How about a meeting? Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay. Good-bye."

He ended the call, and said, "John we're having a meeting! Come on!"

Anderson sprang up from his chair, and said, "Come on, Watson!"

John groaned, and said, "Alright, alright."

He followed Anderson out of the police station, and stepped into a cab.

* * *

They traveled through the same pitiful stretch out to the middle of nowhere, then entered the building.

Terry called from her corner, "Hey, John! Why didn't you call?"

John just smiled a pained smile, and sat down in his designated chair.

Anderson said, "Alright, Darla, you said you have a clue?"

Darla pushed to the front of the group, which seemed to have a couple more people than the last time, and said, "Molly told me that she didn't feel interesting enough. I don't really know what that's susposed to mean, but I guess it's something."

Terry's eyes widened when she heard this, and she punched her hand into the air.

Anderson said, "Yes Terry."

Terry launched into a long speech, "You see, certain girls feel like they have to have a certain...uh... appeal to get a man to notice them. Molly is a naturally insecure person, so what she'll automatically blame is herself. In her eyes, she can never do anything right, and that's why she doesn't say anything to Sherlock!"

She ended her explanation, looking a little proud of herself.

Anderson nodded, and said, "So, all we need to do is get Molly to have a little more confidence in herself!"

Darla nodded her head, but said, "But I can't do it this time. We have more of a very conservative, business respect. The only reason she spilled to me is because I mentioned something, and then she started bawling in the locker room."

John nodded, and said, "She needs a close friend, close enough so that, um, therapy wouldn't seem suspicious."

Marie automatically raised her hand, saying, "I see Molly every day in the fishmarket!"

Anderson said gingerly, "Uh, no. Anyone else?"

Terry shrugged, saying, "Well, I've never met her, but I could help?"

Anderson shook his head, "Sorry Terry, she doesn't know you either. Does anyone _know_ anyone who could help?"

John paused, then said, "Anderson, Mary, my girlfriend, she's a friend of Molly's. They talk, about, every other day."

Anderson smiled, and said, "Yes! John, thank you!"

John clapped his hands, and said, "Alright! I'll talk to Mary, and tell her the gameplan! Now can I go home?"

* * *

Mary adjusted some things in her purse, then sighed. She was standing outside St. Bart's, and was about to walk inside.

She remembered what John had told her; to try and make Molly feel confident about herself.

She took in a deep breath through her nose, then pushed open the front door. She strode confidently up to the receptionist's desk, and said, "Hello, I need to see Molly Hooper!"

Mary was dismayed to see that Darla, the usual receptionist was not there. Instead, in her place, was a clueless young woman who was occupying the majority of her attention with applying silver nail polish.

Mary coughed, and said a little louder, "I NEED to speak with MOLLY HOOPER."

The woman just looked up, and groaned. She flipped through a small notebook, then, five minutes later, said, "I'm sorry, Molly Hooper is not a patient here."

Mary was about to strangle her at that point. She seethed through her teeth, "Molly Hooper is a pathologist here."

The woman rolled her eyes, and flipped through another notebook. After about ten more minutes, she said, "Down the second hallway, last door on the left."

Mary forced a smile, then walked through her instructions.

She eventually walked into the morgue, and found Molly bent over a microscope.

Mary said, "Hey, Molly!"

Molly jumped a little bit, then said in her mousy voice, "Oh, hi Mary!"

Mary smiled, and said, "Hey! I was thinking that we could, you know, get together, for a... coffee or... something!"

Molly said, "I don't know, What time?"

Mary shrugged, and said, "Anytime!"

Molly thought for a second, then said, "Tomorrow's my day off. Ten?"

Mary smiled, and said, "Sure!"

Molly smiled, and bent back over her microscope, writing on a crowded notepad what she saw.

* * *

Mary ran into 221B, saying, "I'm having a coffee with Molly tomorrow!"

John walked out of the kitchen, and said, "Okay. Good. There, you can talk to her."

Mary smiled, and rolled her eyes playfully as she hung her coat on the coatrack.

She began to walk up the stairs when John walked down, and held her by the shoulders as he said, "It's not safe up there. Sherlock's got his pistol back, and he's not very happy."

Mary nodded as a loud 'bang' rang from Sherlock's bedroom upstairs.

John bit his lip, and sighed.

Mary set down her purse, and sat down on the couch next to him.

John asked, "And when are you going to coffee with Molly?"

Mary said immediately, "Ten."

John teased, "And you're not going to forget?"

Mary punched his shoulder just as a loud bang rang through the flat, and a large hole appeared in the ceiling.

John frowned as Sherlock's agitated voice yelled, "Keep it down down there!"

* * *

Mary pulled her red jacket on over her yellow shirt, and brushed her hair one last time.

She sighed, and ran through her mental list in her head for the fiftieth time.

John called, "Have a good time!"

Mary smiled, and walked through the door.

She hailed a cab, and told the cabby to drive her to the corner coffee shop near St. Bart's.

They pulled up in front of the shop, and Mary tipped him as she climbed out.

She walked inside, and automatically thought, "This is relaxing to people?"

She noticed at least fourteen different safety hazards, and even shuttered at the sight of the bathrooms.

She sighed in relief at the sight of Molly walking through the doors carrying her handbag.

Molly scanned the room, and saw Mary sitting as far away from the bathrooms as possible.

She smiled, and said, "Hey, Mary! Nice to see you!"

Mary smiled, and gestured to the other seat.

Molly hung her purse on the side of the chair, and sat down.

Mary rested her elbows on the table, and said, "So, what do you want to talk about?"

Molly smiled uncertainly, and said, "I-I don't know what one says in one of these things."

Mary just said, "There isn't any specific thing you do at a friendly meeting."

Molly frowned, and said, "I-I don't know, I just don't want to offend anyone."

Mary waved her hands at the rest of the café, and said, "Who do you see here that would be offended by anything you say?"

Molly looked around, and said quietly, "Everyone."

Mary laughed, and said, "Molly, you need to be a lot more confident in yourself! You're like the human version of a mouse! You need to find something you're good at, and just rock it!"

Molly said, "I like mice. And there's nothing really that I'm good at."

Mary hit her softly on the shoulder, and said, "Come on, sister, you've got to have something you're good at! Come on! Did you ever compete in a talent show at school?"

Molly thought for a second, then said, "Well, I did sing once in a talent show in elementary school."

Mary hugged her friend's shoulders, and said enthusiastically, "That's a start!"

Molly continued, "I tried to sing something, but my voice cracked, and they audience booed me off the stage."

Mary's smile faded, but she pressed, "So you like to sing?"

Molly betrayed a small smile, and said, "Yeah. I practiced for three weeks. I was going to sing a song called 'Little Talks', but I just fell apart onstage. I had everything in my head, but when everyone looked at me, it flew out, and I was left stuttering onstage."

She continued, "I still know the lyrics."

Mary smiled, and a small plan of her own formed in her mind.

She said, "Hey, Molly, how would you feel trying to sing it again?"

Molly blushed, and said, "I don't know, Mary, it's just, I'd be too nervous."

Then she said, "And the song has a man's part. Who would want to sing with _me_?"

Mary playfully punched her on the shoulder, and said, "Aww... Come on, Molls! You'd be great!"

Molly said with a bit more (gasp) confidence in her voice, "Yeah, I guess I could do it!"

Mary clapped her hands, and said, "Great!"

Molly said, "Well, then, who would sing the man's part?"

Mary smiled nervously, "Oh, I'm sure someone would do it with you!"

Molly rested her chin on her hands, and said, "Oh Mary, I'll never be able to do it."

Mary said, "Aww, I'm sure Sherlock could sing the part!"

Molly's eyes widened, and she said, "I didn't know he could sing! Do you think he'd want to?"

Mary smiled, and said in a lower voice, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he'd love to."

Molly frowned, and said, "I didn't think he loved anything."

Mary caught herself, and said, "Well, I've just got a feeling."

* * *

Mary burst into 221B, yelling, "She can sing!"

John looked up from couch, and shushed her while pointing to the upstairs with a cup of tea in his other hand.

Mary just waved her hand, and said, "Molly can sing! And she's going to do it! And she needs a guy to sing the other part!"

John frowned, and said, "I'm not doing it!"

Mary just smiled, and said, "No, you're not doing it. Sherlock is."

John spat out his sip of tea, and said quite loudly, "How the hell are you going to get him to get out of the flat?"

Mary said, "Did you not hear the part where I said that he's going to do it with Molly?"

John set down his cup, and said thoughtfully, "Well, I guess that might work."

Then Mary set down a small flyer on the table in front of him.

He read it, and said, "A St. Bart's Employee Talent Show?"

Mary nodded, and said, "That's going to be perfect! She'll finally do something with Sherlock, and Sherlock will see that he's not just crazy!"

Sherlock stomped down from the upstairs, and yelled, "Can you keep it quiet down here?"

Mary just strode up to him, and slapped the flyer into his hand.

He frowned, and read the small print.

"St. Bart's Employee Talent Show?" he said.

Mary said, "Yes. You're singing with Molly."

John laughed at the look on his face when Sherlock registered that last sentence.

* * *

 _A/N:_ Ha ha, apparently not the last part. *pant pant* Sorry guys.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N:_ Okay, the _real_ last part!

 _Disclaimer:_ I own nothing.  Especially not the lyrics for "Little Talks".

 **Part Three**

Molly fussed with her outfit for the fifteenth time, then said to Darla (who was her wardrobe assistant), "Does this look fine?"

Darla rolled her eyes, and said, "Molly, I'm sure it looks fine."

Molly pulled down the skirt, and said nervously, "Is the skirt too short?"

Darla said loudly, "Molly, the skirt is practically past your knees! The skirt is fine!"

Molly nodded, but then looked at her make-up in the mirror for the seventieth time, making Darla scream in her mind, _"WHY ME?!"_

Molly was dressed in a light blue sleeveless dress that clung close to her torso and flared out a small bit when it reached her waist. A small bit of white chiffon stuck out from the bottom of the hem, and lightly covered her white fishnet stockings.

Her eyelids were coated softly in powder-blue eyeshadow, and her eyelashes were curled upward a small bit with light mascara, and her lips had just a hint of pink lipstick.

Her hair was completely down, and curled slightly, leaving her curls to fall to her shoulders.

Darla grabbed her shoulders, and said, "Alright Molly, everything is fine, you're the last act, do you remember the lyrics?"

She thought for a second, and said, "Yeah."

Sherlock came out of his dressing room dressed in a formal suit and slacks with a red bowtie under his collar.

Molly blushed, and stuttered, "I-I really am honored that you would- _perform_ with me on stage."

Sherlock just said, "Ms. Hooper, I would never be anything short of honored to do anything with you."

Molly's blush deepened another shade, and she said, "We're about to go on."

Darla peeked her head out from the wings, and whispered to her, "You're going to do _great!"_

Molly nodded her head, and took a deep breath through her nose.

Sherlock placed one of his hands on her trembling shoulder, causing her to completely relax, and, for once in her life, feel a bit of confidence in herself.

The curtain rose, and Molly and Sherlock simultaneously walked forward into the spotlight.

She heard the music start, and prepared herself for her cue.

She took another deep breath, and sang clearly, _"I don't like wandering 'round this old and empty house."_

Sherlock answered in his rich baritone, _"So hold my hand, I'll walk with you, my dear."_

Molly betrayed a small smile as she sang, _"The stairs creak as you sleep, it's keeping me awake."_

Sherlock sang his answer, _"It's the house telling you to close your eyes."_

The singing came easier for her, _"And some days I can't even dress myself,"_

He answered, _"It's killing me to see you this way."_

They harmonized together, blending beautifully, _"'Cause though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore."_

They sang together, making the music surround the audience, and when they reached the bridge, the audience was so deep in their spell, they gasped when the music halted, leaving the two onstage to sing the bridge acappella, their voices in barely a whisper.

 _"You've gone, gone, gone away, I watched you disappear, all that's left is a ghost of you. Now we're torn, torn, torn apart, there's nothing we can do, just let me go, we'll meet again soon."_

The music burst back with a loud chord, and Molly was practically screaming as she sang with Sherlock, _"Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around, I'll see you when I fall asleep!"_

They both sang the end of the song together, _"Don't listen to a word I say! The screams all sound the same! And though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore! Don't listen to a word I say! The screams all sound the same! And though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore!"_

The music slowed, and they sang a little softer, _"Though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore."_

The music finally stopped, leaving them to sing acappella in barely a whisper, _"Though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore."_

Molly and Sherlock paused, then put down their microphones as the crowd exploded into booming rounds of applause.

In the center of the auditorium, all of the members of Anderson's Sherlolly club started standing up, clapping and cheering the loudest in the entire room.

John and Mary also stood up, clapping and smiling up at the two of them.

Molly, getting a little carried away with the moment, grabbed Sherlock's hand, and held it up in the air as she smiled.

Sherlock, at first, looked up in confusion at their clasped hands suspended in the air, but he felt a small smile creep onto his face.

Molly started crying happily, her carefully applied make-up remaining miraculously intact, instead making her eyes glisten magically in the spotlight.

Mary stuck two of her fingers into her mouth, and let out a huge whistle.

The rest of the audience slowly stood up, and soon, they had a full standing ovation.

The two of them stood up on the stage, their two hands entwined up in the air as they smiled and accepted the applause.

* * *

John entered one last sentence to his blog post, and pressed the save button with a wide smile.

Sherlock and Molly were now in a stable relationship, and John was preparing to propose to Mary.

He looked over to the couch, where Molly and Sherlock were watching the entire Harry Potter marathon (well, Sherlock was watching it, Molly had fallen asleep after the third movie ended. She now had her head resting on his shoulder as she slept).

Sherlock was softly stroking her cheek, distractedly watching the characters on the screen.

John smiled, and closed his laptop as he stood up from his desk, fiddling with the small velvet ring box in his pocket.

Sherlock looked over to his partner, and said, "Good luck with dinner Watson."

John smiled again, and said as he pulled on his coat, "Thanks."

He walked down the stairs, and out into the cold winter to a waiting cab.

* * *

 _A/N:_ How did you like it? Good, because that's it. You read right, it's finally over. Please leave a review, all flames will be used to roast marshmallows.


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